5. Chapter 5 #3
Fresh indignation rose up, but I shoved it down. “Did you feel protected?”
It took her several moments to respond. Her face was slack now; the only indicator of distress was when she swallowed. “Sometimes,” she finally replied, then looked off into the trees, her hands pressing harder into the earth below her as her fingers curled.
That movement combined with her desperate need to feel the earth beneath her suddenly made horrible sense.
She’d been held captive in a tower for ten years, surrounded by stone, cut off from nature.
Cut off from people and freedom and choice.
I gave myself several moments to compose myself before returning to my questions.
“So you climbed down the tower to escape?”
She nodded but didn’t look at me. “I was doing well with the climbing, but then the rest of my hair came over the balcony, and the weight of it...” Her gaze stared into the trees, but I didn’t think she actually saw her surroundings.
“I lost my grip. I fully expected to meet my death at the bottom of that tower. Instead I was in water.” Finally, she turned to look at me, utterly perplexed. “How is that possible?”
I opened my mouth, but of course I had no answer. It wasn’t possible.
Lyrielle watched me flounder for words, and the longer I kept silent, the more her mouth fell into a frown and her shoulders rounded in. She broke her gaze and looked away. “You don’t believe me.” Her tone was devastated.
“I don’t know what to believe. My rational brain would love to label you as insane or a liar, but the truth is that I was there in the middle of that ocean. I know we were too far from land for you to have come from shore, and I know there were no ships nearby when we found you.”
She looked over at me, a bit of hope shining in her face.
“So if you’re insane, then so am I.” I gave her a grim smile.
“Hopefully, neither of us are.” She stood, a bundle of flowers in her hand as she turned slowly in a circle.
The breeze kicked up just a little and she closed her eyes for several moments.
When she opened them again, she let the wildflowers drop to the ground and raised a hand to shade her eyes, looking off into the distance with an awe that I envied.
What would it be like to see the world with such unabashed wonder?
She stood there, comfortable in the silence and stillness while the wind fluttered her golden hair.
Then she ran.
It took me several seconds of watching her retreat for my brain to comprehend it. Then I scrambled to my feet and went chasing after her. She must have seen something that frightened her or…something. I didn’t know why she was running, only that I was terrified of letting her out of my sight.
“Lyrielle!” I yelled.
And she laughed. Laughed.
“Lyrielle, stop!”
She came to an abrupt stop and whirled to face me, her face ashen and her hands pressed to her stomach as I skidded to a halt in front of her. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she babbled. “Please forgive me, I only—”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” I assured her, holding out a placating hand. Her darting eyes suggested that she thought I was angry with her, and that frightened her. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I just worried you might lose your way.”
“Yes.” She nodded, pinching her eyes shut. “Of course. I should have been more careful. It was foolish of me.” She swallowed hard.
“I just…” I began carefully, determined not to frighten her again. “I just wondered where you were going.” I tried to make my face curious instead of stern, though I knew I was terrible at softening my features.
She gave a sharp shake of her head. “Nowhere.” Her breathing was still uneven after her abrupt sprint. “I was…I’d forgotten what it’s like to run.”
“You…” She’d forgotten because she’d been imprisoned for a decade. I swallowed. “And what do you think of it?”
A small smile peeked through. “It’s rather exhilarating.”
I nodded, wanting to assure her that I understood her meaning. “Yes, I can see how it could be exhilarating.”
She tilted her head and studied me. “But you think me odd for it?” The fear had left her eyes, leaving her expression curious but not offended.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But did you think it?” she asked with a tiny teasing smile tugging on her lips.
“For a moment, yes.”
She put her hands on her hips and looked out over the valley, brushing a piece of hair out of her eyes when the wind pulled it loose. “I imagine that’s bound to happen more than once as I get reacquainted with the world. I’m sorry if it embarrasses you.”
“You don’t embarrass me.”
She turned back to me with a smile. “Good.” She bit her lip, obviously debating something before she said, “Then race me back,” and took off running yet again.
A breathy laugh escaped me before I chased after her, grateful she’d gone back in the direction of the horse. Grateful that my father had been feeling well enough today that he didn’t need me to stand in for him and I could be here in this moment with this woman.